


have you any dreams you'd like to sell

by bulletthestars



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Barely Legal, Crossdressing, M/M, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletthestars/pseuds/bulletthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenson is a vampire. Nico sells his body and his blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have you any dreams you'd like to sell

There is something graceful about the way the boy moves, Jenson thinks. The swaying of his hips, the way he bends over to pick a cherry off the pyramid of fruits on the table... The slope of his shoulders, the curve of his body, the blonde curls framing his young face and his eyes, emerald, green, flashing. Far too beautiful for a place like this.

Jenson watches him as the others hold court. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, eyes trained on the boy as the music plays. Soft jazz, the double bass going on and on and on into the night.

'How much?' Jenson asks later on. He leans over the counter, just enough to show that he is interested, but he might back off if the price is too high. He keeps a smile on his face, and the Madam peers at him from behind a pair of thick eyeglasses and there is cheap mascara all over her eyelids.

'That one?' Her voice is a low drawl, and she laughs when Jenson nods. 'Can you afford him?'

Someone like Jenson does not need to pay for someone to warm his bed, but tonight is different. Tonight he wants something more, something he should not want to have. 'Give me your best room,' Jenson says, flashing a smile. With teeth.

The Madam laughs raucously. 'Of course.'

 

The boy is waiting for Jenson when he comes to the room. He sits on the edge of the bed, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, fists clenched on his lap, blonde hair falling into his eyes. There's a red ribbon around his neck, and all he's wearing is a pair of thigh high stockings and white lacy panties. Exactly what Jenson had been promised.

 _('He's not a_ child _is he?'_

_'Oh no, no sir, child labour laws, you know, we're all afraid, we don't deal with this sort of thing.'_

_'He's young.'_

_'He_ looks _young. He's old enough to be working his arse off in a factory, if you ask me. Enjoy your purchase.')_

'Hello,' Jenson says cheerily. It is only polite, he supposes, although to be honest, there is nothing to be cheerful about. Just him looking for a pretty young thing to fuck.

The boy jumps, and it is as if he had not noticed Jenson's presence in the first place. There is a stricken look in his eyes, but it is gone soon enough, replaced by a blank stare that fades into something Jenson cannot quite put his finger on. Fear, perhaps. And maybe an attempt at lust, although he cannot quite imagine it. The boy opens his mouth, as if to speak, but then he hesitates, looking down instead.

'They said you would let me drink from you,' Jenson says, taking his time as he pulls off his coat, hanging it up by the door. He walks towards the boy, steps slow, measured. Is the boy shivering? Perhaps he is. They always do, when they learn that he drinks blood.

The boy nods, before looking up at Jenson, eyes searching.

'Well, that and other things,' Jenson continues, waving a hand about. He looks at the boy curiously, and the boy flinches under his gaze. It is as if he is moving backwards, closing up as Jenson watches him. This is something new for Jenson. The boy is not afraid, yet he makes no attempt to draw closer. So cold for someone so beautiful, Jenson thinks, yet he knows that if this keeps up his night will not end well. Someone will end up in tears, and he has no intention of making the boy cry. He likes his lovers soft and willing, and even when he is paying for his company, there is no exception.

(But at the back of his mind Jenson thinks that the boy would look so lovely with his blonde locks clinging to his face and his eyes wet with tears, those beautiful lips wrapped around his cock as he chokes around it because no more, no more, he cannot possibly take Jenson like this)

'What is your name?'

The boy looks at Jenson, startled. 'You can call me whatever you like,' he says, for the first time, and Jenson looks at him, amused. His voice is different from what Jenson had expected, and it is low enough for Jenson to believe the Madam's words that indeed, he is old enough. But there is the softness on his cheeks and the delicateness of those wrists that makes Jenson doubt himself, that maybe he _is_ going too far after all.

'They told me you go by _Britney_.'

Something flashes in the boy's eyes, but it is gone soon enough. Anger, perhaps? 'Indeed,' he sniffs. Jenson has heard that sort of tone before, equal parts disdain and resignation, sounding like it does not belong in this sort of establishment. He cocks his head to one side and asks 'What would you like first?'

Changing the subject with the illusion of choice. Well, not that Jenson minds if they cut the chase, and being asked makes Jenson feel better about everything, especially when he is paying for it. 'You choose,' Jenson says, getting on the bed, sitting by Britney. The temptation to pull Britney on to his lap, to cuddle and kiss and bounce him up and down on his cock with his lovely panties pushed to one side afterwards is terribly overwhelming, but he fights the urge down, keeping his hands by his side.

Britney looks at Jenson, dragging his tongue slowly over his lower lip, watching for Jenson's reaction. Jenson swallows, eyes following the movement of Britney's tongue, and he does not miss the small smirk that plays on his lips before he shifts, fisting his hand in the material of Jenson's shirt and pulls him in for a kiss.

 

Britney sucks Jenson off with the eagerness of someone who has never had a cock in his mouth before. God the boy is clever, even when he looks up at Jenson with his eyes wide, the epitome of an innocent angel about to be defiled, Jenson is certain that there is cool calculation in there, somewhere. He's equal parts sloppy and enthusiastic and so good at it that Jenson could fool himself into thinking that he is Britney's first.

The thought gets to Jenson, really. The first to leave his marks all over, the first to taste his sweet flesh, the first to drink from him... It's highly unlikely, but Jenson can dream, and dream he will.

When Jenson makes Britney part his legs, he looks up at him with flushed cheeks and mumbles something about how embarrassing it is and at this point Jenson is too far gone because _how could he have known_? He spreads his arse cheeks beneath his panties and tells Jenson that he is wet and ready for Jenson inside him when Jenson works him open with his fingers.

Later on, Britney begs to come as Jenson fucks him. His cock is straining against the material of his panties, there is a damp patch where his cock has been leaking and he begs so beautifully, a litany of _please please please please please_ with his hands fisted in the bed sheets. Of course, Jenson lets him because really, how could he resist such a lovely, needy boy?

 

'What is your name,' Jenson asks, voice gentle. There had been something raw in the boy's eyes earlier on, after his orgasm, and when Jenson had pulled him into a hug, stroking his back, he had shivered and when he pulled away, his eyes had been shining. Almost as if they were brimming with tears. Something about him makes Jenson want to spirit him away from here, to take off with him into the night and never look back, and the feeling is unsettling, burning him from inside out. Now he sits on Jenson's lap, head resting where Jenson's neck meets his shoulder as Jenson rubs circles into his skin. He sighs, shifting closer, settling comfortably against Jenson. He is an utter mess, lips kiss swollen and panties completely ruined. But that ribbon is still there on his neck, a pretty present that Jenson has yet to unwrap fully.

'Nico.' It's a soft whisper, and he does not look up.

'Nico,' Jenson murmurs. The name tastes perfect on his tongue. He reaches in between them for the ribbon around Nico's neck and gives it a small tug. It falls away soon enough, and this is what he has been waiting for. Nico is all his now, his for the taking. 'A beautiful name for a beautiful boy,' he purrs, pressing his lips to Nico's neck and Nico moans, throwing his head back, baring his neck further for Jenson.

Jenson bites down, and he tastes victory.


End file.
